Hurt So Good
by UseAnotherName
Summary: "I said hit me. Let me have it. Punch me right in the smug face if it pleases you." Tony took a step closer. The question was: would Steve be game for this special brand of f*ckuppery? Steve/Tony


**A/N: Because, I don't know, I'm tired of fluff and goodiegood!Steve. And I'm also pretty sure Tony's fucked up beyond words and probably likes to get smacked around..? I don't even know anymore.**

 **What I meant to write was: since there's no crazy tag system like on AO3 and this site's a bit more tame I figured I'd warn for mild, but consensual (no really, Tony** ** _wants_** **it) violence. Nothing too graphic, I swear. *Cracks knuckles* Okay, here we go.**

It started off as an accident, funnily enough. They were arguing over what Tony would later refer to as the one and only time he nearly killed himself on the battlefield, when Steve- -him and those big hands of his- -had tried to rip out of Tony's grasp ( _"For Christ's sake Steve, there's no way at that angle and trajectory I would've been skewered alive!" he said, grabbing Steve's upper arm to keep the other man from walking away_ ) but only succeeded in accidently backhanding Tony.

Steve almost cursed once he realized what had happened.

Almost.

"Christ, Tony! I'm SO sorry." He went to grab the other man.

Tony's eyes only widened, his own hand flew up to his face. Yep, there was blood. His eyes flashed to Steve's. The man looked a wreck, like he was five seconds from diving out the nearest window, and Jesus, _calm down_.

"God, Tony! I'm so sor-"

"Do it again," Tony murmured.

A blank look. "Wh...what?"

It was now or never. Tony decided to put all his chips on the table. "Hit me," he said. And really, Tony had always had a feeling that Steve was in search of an outlet, what with being so damn _nice_ all the time. He just didn't know it, but beating the crap out of Tony would be just the trick.

"What...What did you say?" Steve had never looked more confused in his life. Tony wanted to _bite_ him.

"I said _hit_ me. Let me have it. Punch me right in the smug face if it pleases you." Tony took a step closer.

The question was: would Steve be game for this special brand of fuckuppery?

"Okay," Steve said on a breath.

Bingo.

This was going to be the start of a beautiful relationship.

...

The second time it happens sex comes into play. And it's about damn time because that was the whole point behind Tony's fucked up (genius) plan.

Never let it be said that Tony Stark didn't enjoy a fucked up version of foreplay every now and then.

Steve had just landed an unforgiving fist into Tony's face, and yeah it hurt in all the right ways, blood all over and Steve looked like holding back the apology on his lips was damn near about to _kill_ him. Tony made sure to put a stop to _that_ look right away by insulting the other man. Steve's eyes turned to fury right as another fist smashed into Tony's nose.

God damn it had gotten violent fast.

Tony had never been more turned on in his life.

Wiping the blood from his mouth Tony looked up at Steve. "That all you got? Pussy."

Now, Tony wasn't quite sure what got Steve more: calling him names or the blood- -that _he_ caused- -on Tony's face (and boy, wouldn't that be a can of worms to open?) but next thing he knew Steve had grabbed him by the upper arm- - _hard_ \- -pulled him in and crushed their mouths together.

Okay then.

And it was bloody and brutal and unforgiving and everything Tony could've ever hoped for.

God he was _fucked up_.

Afterwards, after they were both good and sweaty and messy and _fucked_ , both men having blood on their faces even though Tony was the only one bleeding, they looked at each other, breaths heavy.

It was the world's most awkward game of chicken, with neither of them wanting to be the first one to speak after _that_.

Whatever that was.

Fucked up...was what that was.

Okay, Tony'll bite. "Same time next week?"

Steve narrowed his eyes. "Pretty sure I'm gonna want to punch you in the face sooner than next week."

Duly noted. "Agreed." Tony nodded, untangled himself from the taller man and made to leave. He'd like to lick his wounds in private, thank you ever so much.

"Hold on." Steve reached out and pulled him back, stealing what appeared to be a surprisingly tender kiss.

Well that...that didn't seem to belong here.

"Thank you," Steve said honest to god kindly. Tony arched an eyebrow. "For letting me beat the crap out of you," he clarified. It was almost sweet. "I never knew how much of a release that could be."

"The other release was quite nice too," Tony added, one might even say a little shifty look came across his face.

"Yeah, I guess I needed that too," Steve admitted.

A long silent moment passed.

"Right, I'm gonna-" Tony pointed over his shoulder. "You know, before I ruin this by talking more."

"Good idea." Steve sat up, gathering his clothes.

See? The beginning of a beautiful relationship.

...

Nobody asked about the bruises, and Tony wasn't sure because they all knew and didn't care that Tony got his face punched in from time to time- -seeing how they all knew he probably deserved it- -or because they didn't want Steve to feel bad, or be embarrassed by it.

Tony suspected it was the latter of the two. Everybody just fucking _liked_ Steve so much.

He had no problem being not liked, it got him Steve after all, so there was that.

Tony had made a point to piss Steve off when the others were around, just to see how riled up he could get the man, knowing that Steve would never lay a hand on him in front of them. Stewing anger was the best kind. The kind that slowly built up like a volcano waiting to erupt.

He so hoped that volcano would erupt all over him later that day.

Another quip headed Steve's way. Natasha at least raised a questioning eyebrow at Stark, the others must have just been used to this by now or not realized what was going on. Only Tony noticed the slight twitch to Steve's eye and god damn fighting off an erection was getting harder and harder these days, no fucking pun intended.

A couple more rounds and then Tony judged by the breaking grip Steve had on the edge of the table it was enough.

They needed a table after all.

He retreated to his room and waited.

And waited.

And waited some more.

Waiting was getting boring and Tony was beginning to wonder if he'd pushed Steve too far. Was it the 'monkey on a unicycle' crack? Because Tony was sure he had far better material than that.

After what seemed like an incredibly long time in which Tony could've gotten himself off several times, Steve appeared at his door.

"That was rude," Tony quipped, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away.

"Everything you _do_ is rude," Steve shot back. He was in Tony's face at super speed.

Looking up at Steve was almost comical, what with the ridiculous height the man had on him, but Tony wasn't backing down. Not now. He licked his lips. "Well?" _He_ was ready.

But Steve just sighed."I don't think I can do this anymore, Tony."

Well damn.

Guess it's true: all good things must come to an end.

"Would it help if I called you some more names? What about your mama jokes? I got loads of those. I've been saving them for Clint, but I'll tell you what, I like you a whole hell of a lot more, so-"

"Shut up, just shut _up_ ," Steve snapped.

Foreplay, meet Steve Rogers.

"Do you _ever_ shut the fuck up?" Steve looked down at Tony.

Was that a trick question? Would answering that defeat the purpose of said question? In the end Tony decided to just stay _shut the fuck up_.

Sighing was becoming Steve's new friend. "I just...can't do this anymore. Beat the crap out of you. It's not right, Tony."

"Nothing in life I do is right." Damn. He didn't mean to say that out loud and now Steve was looking at him with caring and questioning eyes and all it did was make Tony want run down to his lab and never, _never_ come out.

It was quiet, but Steve said it. "Maybe we can fix that."

Nope. Probably not. "What did you have in mind?" Tony asked despite himself.

The look of seer uncomfortable on Steve's face was enough to tell Tony that this was really, _really_ hard for the other man to say.

The anticipation was _killing_ him.

"I was thinking, if it was alright with you, that we could still, um-" Steve made a vague hand gesture. "You know..."

Tony decided to put him out of his misery. "Have sex?"

"With feelings," Steve added, the tension draining from his face ever so slightly.

Sex with feelings? What was this new and intriguing concept?

"I'm afraid that's a foreign concept for me," Tony admitted. Not sheepishly, just matter-of-fact, because: you _know_.

"Me too, if you weren't aware," Steve deadpanned.

Oh, Tony was aware.

Steve continued. "And seeing how it appears we can both stand each other's company, and I kinda like you, and I hope you kinda like me-"

"I like you." It was out of his mouth before he realized it. Traitor.

"Uh, good. So um..."

"Sex?"

"Yeah."

"Just.. with no punching?"

"I would prefer that," Steve said honestly and Tony was beginning to realize that Steve could always just take his pent up energy out on the nearest punching bag if need be and..oh, that's probably what the man had been doing for the last hour Tony had been waiting for him.

Still, _rude_.

Also, very thoughtful.

Tony nodded. "Okay, yeah. Sex with feelings. We can give that a shot." He slowly reached out and trailed a hand along Steve's face. Steve closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

His eyes flew open. "Just, Tony?"

"Hm?" Steve's face felt nice. He wondered what it would feel like under his tongue.

"I can't promise that I won't still _want_ to punch you now and again." At least the man was honest. "But I won't."

Tony smiled. "It's okay. We'll come up with a safe word." He leaned in and licked a stripe up Steve's neck. Tasty. "How does 'freezer pops' work for you?"

It took all of Steve's will not to punch Tony right then and there.

End


End file.
